Dead or Alive
by Angie J Trifid
Summary: After being stabbed almost to death, Jeanette is conviced she is dead. She is admitted to a psychologist, Dr Simon Seville, but instead of her realising what people tell her, she falls in love and covinces Simon of her story...
1. Prologue

**A/N: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. This is a story I'm thinking of writing, inspired by **_**The Sixth Sense**_**. I decided to write it up on here first to see what you guys think. Cast list:**

**Jeanette Miller as Izzy "Bell" Montague**

**Simon Seville as Dr Ronald Jason**

**Brittany Milled as Mrs Jenifer Montague**

**Alvin Seville as Mr Harry Montague**

**Eleanor Miller as Nurse Helen Jones**

**Theodore Seville as Professor Adam Roberts**

**I'll give you more as the story continues, if I need to**

**Prologue**

At eleven twenty-three pm, on the fifteenth of March, a young girl by the name of Jeanette Miller was admitted to hospital with stab wounds in her back, side and neck. At eleven thirty-one, surgeons operated on her, in an attempt to save her life. At eleven fifty-two, her heart stopped beating. When doctors arrived at the morgue at nine-thirty in the morning for a proper post-mortem, they noticed that she was breathing.

Jeanette was rushed into a ward, upon which point her parents, Brittany and Alvin, were allowed in to see their daughter. At ten o-six, her eyes opened and she spoke:

"What am I doing here?"

Jeanette's mother took a seat.

"You're in the ward. You're alive."

The next five words the wounded child spoke were among the most worrying her parents had ever heard:

"No, I'm not. I'm dead."

The next day, Jeanette Miller was admitted to a mental institute and the best psychologist in the entire city, Dr Simon Seville, in an attempt to prove to her that she was, in fact, alive. The following story tells of the events that unfolded subsequent to the stabbing.


	2. The Flashback

**A/N: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

**Nathan (from AATC Meet the Wolfman) as Richard "Richie" Brigham**

**Dave Seville as Joseph Goodwin**

**Chapter One: The Flashback**

They left the car. Brittany and Alvin still looked very concerned about their daughter. They took her into the huge grey building and sat with her in the waiting room until the doctor's assistant, one David Seville, called her in.

The doctor's office was the perfect room – the exact size of two large squares – longer than it was wide. There was a red leather couch opposite a small armchair and a large window at the back, behind a wooden desk. Before the desk was a single padded seat, on which Jeanette sat. As the assistant shut the door and handed a file to the high-backed seat, the occupant of which was staring at the park outside the window, Jeanette looked around properly.

There was a large bookshelf against one wall, containing countless books on psychology and psychiatry. Shelves were stacked against the same wall with hundreds of cards and photographs and instruments for his job. On the desk was a laptop but no photographs. Weren't there normally photographs on desks?

"Thank you, David," said a voice. "You may go now."

The man named David left the room. The chair swivelled round.

The doctor was tall and handsome, tanned with dark hair and steel-grey eyes hidden behind blue-rimmed glasses. He observed the patient.

She was tall, skinny and pale, young like himself (he was only just twenty) and an altogether normal eighteen-year-old. She had brunette hair in a scruffy bun and emerald-green eyes with large pink-rimmed glasses. She looked very calm.

"You are Jeanette Miller?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"And do you know why you were admitted here?"

"I was admitted because people are refusing to accept the truth."

"The truth being…?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. Her voice was firm. "That I am dead."

Simon Seville stood up.

"Miss Miller," he said, walking round his desk to the armchair. "You are here because _you_ refuse to accept the truth. You are, in fact, alive."

The patient shook her head. "I am not, doctor."

The doctor sat down. "Please, take a seat on the couch."

The patient glared suspiciously, and finally stood up. She was wearing a violet tank top, a blue flannel jacket and a purple miniskirt, with blue high tops. She took a seat on the couch, crossing her right leg over her left.

"Now," the doctor said. "Can you tell me what leads you to believe you are dead?"

Jeanette's head dropped as she thought about it.

_She was walking down an alleyway with her boyfriend, Nathan._

"_I don't think we should be here," she said. It didn't feel right._

"_Don't worry about it, love," he said. "It'll be fine."_

_They reached a dead end._

"_Let's turn back," Jeanette said. "C'mon, we can't keep on walking."_

_A dark shadow blocked the light. An equally dark voice spoke. "This is _it_, Nathan?"_

"_This is it," Nathan replied._

"_This is what?" Jeanette asked, confused. "Nathan… what's going on?"_

"_Sorry about this, love," he said. "Well, actually… I'm not."_

_And he pulled out a knife. She couldn't run. She couldn't scream. She just felt repeated agony as the knife plunged into her, raking through, tearing her flesh, pulled out and ripped her flesh open again. It was going dark._

_And then there it was – a tiny pinpoint of light growing closer and closer. And she was being pulled through it, faster and faster, by some unseen force…_

_And suddenly she reached the end of the tunnel of light, and she was in a morgue, with people in casual clothes standing all around her. They were all very pale. One of them had half his face missing, another had slits on her wrists and bruises and cuts all over her face. There was a child being sick, a teenager with blood trickling down her face and a small baby being held up by the woman, covered in scratches. Jeanette tried to sit up._

"_Am I…?" she asked quietly. The man nodded. "And you…?" he nodded again._

"_Why?" she asked. But everything went dark again and opened her eyes in a bright hospital room. Her chest felt empty. Her heart wasn't beating._

"Jeanette! Wake up! Please, wake up!"

Jeanette looked up. The doctor was next to her, shaking her, looking concerned. "What?" she asked, seeing the relief on his face.

"You stopped breathing."

"So? I don't need to breathe."

The doctor sighed, feeling that this was going to be a difficult case.


	3. Striking a Deal

**A/N: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

**Jillian (from television series) as Bethany Collard**

**Juliet (from television series) as Emma Greene**

**Chapter Two: Striking a Deal**

Simon locked the door to his apartment and tossed his briefcase into the corner. He changed out of his suit and pulled on a thin shirt with a sweater vest, and a pair of jeans. Then he made himself his usual microwave dinner and flipped on the television. There wasn't much on so he settled for a channel showing _The Lost Boys_ while he ate. He cleaned up and took out his notes on his most recent patient.

He circled a few fragments of the notes such as _near death experience_ and _change to perception of reality_. He then took out his laptop and typed his notes up in neat. The phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Simon?" asked a voice on the other end. His eyes grew wide.

"Oh, Jillian! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Just wondering why you didn't turn up for lunch today like you said you would."

"Oh, crap!" he's completely forgotten. "Sorry, Jill. I got a new patient today…"

"You get a new patient every day, Simon. And you never turn up for dates. You weren't like this before you graduated, Si."

"I'm sorry, Jill, but I really have a chance to help people with this job, to put their lives back to normal, and –"

"And what about _my_ life, Simon? _My_ life used to be normal, and now I'm dating a psychologist who cares more about his job than –"

"Jill, please listen to me. My patients can't be helped by others. Everybody else has given up on them. They need me."

"_I_ need you, Simon."

Jillian sounded like she was going to cry. Simon breathed in deeply, closed his eyes and sighed.

"Okay, Jill. Tomorrow night, I'll take you out for dinner, okay?"

"Okay," Jillian said. "See you then."

She rang off.

Simon had first met Jillian in psychology class two years ago. A week later he'd asked her to go out with him at a party, and they'd been dating ever since. But when Simon had started his job, they'd been drifting apart. He'd thought she'd be more understanding about how important this job was to other people, but instead she'd become needy and demanding.

"Dear God," he muttered, picking up the telephone directory and flicking through its pages, looking for an expensive restaurant to pacify Jillian's constant complaining.

He was settling back to work again when the phone started ringing. Simon groaned and picked it up. "Yes?" he demanded.

"Simon? How are you? It's Theodore."

Theodore was a professor at the local college, and a good friend of Simon's. He taught palaeontology and ran cooking classes on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

"Theo! How are you?"

"I heard you took on Jeanette Miller as a patient. I know her parents – nice people."

"Any other point to this phone call?"

"Yes. I wanted to see what you thought of her. She's one of my best students, you see?"

Perfect – an opportunity to talk comfortably with a person who saw the girl every day.

"Sure. You can come over for coffee. Where are you?"

"Outside your apartment door."

Simon rolled his eyes and opened the door to a short, chubby man wearing a green sweater and dark jeans. He made coffee and grabbed his laptop to make more notes.

"How long's she been your student, Theodore?"

"Just started this semester, but she's brilliant. Knows everything. I doubt she even needed to take my course. She's corrected me a few times."

"I see. Did she at any point seem unstable to you?"

"No. She's a bit shy, but that's the worst of it. Well, that is to say, until she got this sleazy new boyfriend. Some dropout kid called Nathan. She got a bit jumpy after that, and it really reminded me of Orin and Audrey in _Little Shop of Horrors_."

Simon frowned. "How so?"

"Scratches. Once she came in with a ton of eye make-up, trying to cover up a nasty black eye. And she had these bruises on her arms like someone had –" he squeezed his wrist tightly, leaving a slight mark on the skin.

"Do you think that could've tipped her over the edge?" Simon asked, concerned.

"Probably," Theodore shrugged. "She's such a sweet, gentle girl. I don't think she can take too much. She's one of those kids who needs to be loved; needs to be cared for."

"Have you ever tried voicing your concern?" Simon asked. Theodore, unlike most young men, excessed in compassion rather than testosterone.

"I called her back after class once to ask her about it. I asked her if I should tell her parents, but she seemed scared at the idea of anybody finding out. He probably threatened to do worse to her if anybody found out."

Simon typed up the notes rapidly. "Anything else?"

"I was wondering what you thought of her."

"I've arranged another hour-long session tomorrow. She seems relatively normal, apart from believing she's now dead. I've put it down to her near-death experience, but hearing what you've got to say, I think I should look into this Nathan character, as well."

"Just be careful with Jeanette," Theodore said, concerned. "She's very clever, but she's also very delicate."

* * *

Half a mile away, up in another part of the West end of town, Jeanette bolted her bedroom door and locked her bedroom window, then drew the thick curtains so Nathan wouldn't know if she was still awake should he come past the house. Then she crept into her en-suite and locked the window there, too.

Then she changed into her cotton blue-and-purple striped pyjamas and sat on her double four-poster bed. She drew the dusty-gold-coloured curtains and crossed her legs. Then she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. She sat like that, shaking, for a long time.

Footsteps… were those footsteps? Yes, they were. Gentle footsteps, coming towards the bed. One of the curtains was flung back and Jeanette tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. The person moved onto the bed and drew the curtains again.

"It's okay," a quiet voice whispered. "I won't hurt you."

She was a creamy-pale girl with pale gold plaited pigtails, about Jeanette's age, wearing a Victorian nightdress. There was a little bit of blood coming from one ear.

"I'm Juliet," the girl said. "This used to be my room."

"Really?" Jeanette whispered. Juliet nodded.

"When I was little," the girl said. "I lived here until I was eight, but my dad…"

Juliet broke down in tears. Jeanette put an arm around her, trying to stop her from crying.

"It's okay," Jeanette whispered. "It's alright. Did your dad kill you?"

Juliet nodded. "Oh, I'm sorry," Jeanette said. "I know how you feel."

"I know you do," Juliet said. "And I'd like to help you, if you can help me."

"Help me how?" Jeanette asked.

"Well, see, I know some who can help you. Help you understand and all."

"Okay," Jeanette said. "How do I help you?"

"I need someone to find my body."

"Where is it?"


	4. Digging for Juliet

**A/N: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks.**

**Chapter Three: Digging for Juliet**

Jeanette's parents went into the building with her again. She really wished they wouldn't; it made her feel as though she should be in a straight jacket, or being led by the arm, or have people staring and backing away from her, yelling, "Unclean! Unclean!" as though she was some kind of demon. This time, she was called into the office almost immediately.

"Good morning. Take a seat on the couch, Miss Miller," the doctor said. She did.

"How are you?" she asked politely.

"Perfectly fine, thank you. And yourself?"

"I've been… alright…"

"That's good. Miss Miller, last night I spoke with your college professor, who voiced a concern for your well-being in the time leading up to the attack on you."

Jeanette frowned. "Really?"

"Yes," the doctor said, nodding. "He said you had a boyfriend who he suspected as a risk to yourself."

Jeanette nodded quietly. The handsome doctor raised a thin eyebrow.

"You're confirming this?"

She nodded again. The doctor leaned forward. "Is there something you need to tell me?" he asked. She nodded again. "What is it?"

Jeanette bit her lip. She didn't want to tell him. He was a psychologist. He wouldn't believe her; he'd think she was crazy. She shook her head.

"You can tell me," he said, and he looked directly into her eyes. "What is it?"

Jeanette looked away and mumbled it.

"What was that?"

"I need to do something. To tell you something. Only you won't believe me."

"We'll see," the doctor said. "What is it?"

"It's this little girl," Jeanette whispered. "This little ghost girl in my room."

The doctor sat back in his chair and made a note.

"You think I'm crazy," Jeanette said. "You don't believe me."

"I'm not going to make any judgement on that until I've heard what you have to say. Because then I'd start looking for things to suit that decision. This is what I do, Miss Miller. I don't want to be stupid and jump to any conclusions. Please, carry on."

Jeanette took a deep breath. "She was killed by her dad. I have to find her body. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"I don't want to do it alone. I know where she is, but I'm scared of what I find, and I'm scared of what people will think, and I…"

The doctor patted Jeanette's hand comfortingly. "You think people will think you're a deranged lunatic?"

Jeanette nodded.

"Okay. What was her name?"

"Juliet Greene."

Simon stood up and pressed a button on his desk. His assistant, who was older than he was, picked up the phone at the reception area. "Yes, Dr Seville?"

"David, would you run a search for me on a girl called Juliet Greene, and bring me whatever you can find, please?"

"Yes, sir," was the reply. Simon returned to the armchair, studying his patient.

She looked very calm, perhaps a bit nervous, as though worried people would think she was mad, and unsure of something. She did not reflect the personality or appearance of patients who had hallucinations or a poor grasp on reality. In fact, she seemed to be more _concerned_ that she might have hallucinations or a poor grasp on reality.

The door opened and Simon's assistant came in with a printed out webpage about Juliet Greene.

It said that Juliet Greene was born in the year 1887 and had gone missing one night when she was eight years of age. There was a painting of a little girl and the patients address. He showed her the picture. "Is this Juliet?"

She nodded.

"Where is she?"

"In the garden, buried deep."

"Okay. I don't really have time to help you tonight."

"Please help me. If I keep putting it off, it'll never happen."

Simon sighed again. "Perhaps I can find the time soon."

"Please?" Jeanette Miller begged. "Please, I don't want to do this alone."

"Alright. I'll meet you at your house at five o'clock, but I'll only have until six."

The girl nodded. "Thank you."

"You can go now," Simon told her.

* * *

It was the middle of winter, so it was already dark by five. Jeanette was sitting in her room in a pair of faded jeans and an old sweater. Juliet was sitting on the end of the bed.

"When are you digging me up?" she asked politely.

"When the doctor gets here," Jeanette replied, moving around to lock the windows and draw the curtains. "He shouldn't be too long."

"I think you like him," Juliet said. "You've been doing your hair for the last twenty minutes."

"Have I?" Jeanette asked, running a brush through her hair again, and tying it in her usual loose bun. Her purple ribbon hung loosely down her back and was tied in a bow at the end. The loud, echoing doorbell rang and Jeanette ran downstairs, Juliet following her.

"How are you?" the doctor asked.

"Perfectly fine," Jeanette answered. "C'mon, we have to get into the yard."

"Do you have torches and shovels?"

"Only one," Jeanette replied. "Of each. Sorry."

"Don't be," the doctor shrugged.

Jeanette grabbed the shovel and the torch and led the doctor to the garden. She pointed to a spot beneath the oak tree. "She's down there."

Simon took the shovel from his patient and started digging. It was hard work, and bound to be a very deep grave, if it was real at all.

"Where did you meet your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Campus cafe. He doesn't go to college but some of his friends could get him in. Do you want me to dig?"

There was already a three-foot-deep hole in the ground. Simon gave the shovel to the girl and held the torch for her.

"Did he start beating on you immediately?"

"No. It's like most stories, isn't it? Sweet at first, you get the idea."

"Yes, I do. What happened when you were attacked?"

She shook her head, probably not wanting to speak. Simon checked his watch. It was five to six, but perhaps he could let it run over a few minutes. The light was shining on the face of the digging girl. She looked very pretty in the torch light. Then he noticed that she was looking fixedly at a spot in mid-air, about where an eight-year-olds face might be. She seemed to be listening. Then she nodded and turned back to him.

"It's only a couple more inches now," she said. She threw the shovel aside and got down on her hands and knees, and began scraping away at the dirt. Soon, a bit of clothing appeared, and then a skeleton.

"Jesus Christ," Simon muttered. He whipped out his phone and called the police.


	5. Heart to Heart Chat

**A/N: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. And by the way, Wendy: thanks for your comment. I might have to "borrow" that idea from Kelly.**

**This isn't going to be a scary chapter.**

**Chapter Four: Heart-to-Heart Chat**

The police finally arrived within twenty minutes, and Simon knew he'd have to make another phone call straight away.

"Hello?" Jillian asked from the other end of the line. "Simon? What's going on?"

"I have to delay tonight, love," Simon answered.

"Why?"

"It'll probably be in the papers tomorrow morning."

"What –?"

"I have to go; bye." He rang off before she could yell at him. Then he turned to Jeanette. "Why aren't your parents in?"

"Party," she said, sitting at the edge of the whole and staring at the little girl's body, curled up like a foetus. Poor little Juliet.

"Thanks," the ghost-Juliet told her, sitting down at the edge of the 'grave'. "You know, it's not really as bad as it looks. And your situation's going to get better, too."

Jeanette shot a questioning look at the little girl.

"I saw the way he was looking at you. Jeanette, I think he likes you a bit."

Jeanette smiled and turned to look at the grave again. "I'll give you some privacy," Juliet said, and retreated back inside the house, probably up to her old room.

Simon sat down next to Jeanette. "Wow," was all he said.

"You weren't expecting to find her," Jeanette said.

"No – I mean yes, I –"

"No you weren't," Jeanette continued. "You didn't think she was real. You thought we'd just be digging up the garden. You still think I'm mad."

Simon sighed. "It's getting more and more difficult to define 'mad' these days. Madness' people supposedly had hundreds of years ago, they're all being proven to have different causes; they're all explainable. One day, people in my field will only be needed to figure out what's going on."

"I've read some of your papers. They're really good."

"Thanks. You know, Jeanette, I'll bet somebody's going to come along and steal my spotlight soon enough. Then –" he punched her lightly in the arm. "– you'll be somebody else's problem. I won't be the one digging up bodies."

"Just as well, I guess."

"For now."

"You know what, Simon?" Jeanette asked. "I'll give you my honest opinion on your work. I think you've been doing a great job."

The doorbell rang, echoing from inside the house, and Jeanette stood up to go and let them in. Simon watched her go with a slight smile.

"What's happening to me?" he wondered aloud. He had just told one of his newest patients one of his deepest concerns, something he hadn't told even Jillian. He couldn't understand why. Perhaps something in his subconscious was telling him she was more trustworthy than Jillian. She definitely was unique.

And this case would get more interesting. If he could prove something – _anything_ – about this girl it would mean a major breakthrough in psychology.

But was that really what he wanted?


	6. Define Life

**A/N: I don't own any characters.**

**Chapter Five: Define Life**

Simon unlocked the door to his apartment and let in Jillian.

"Sorry I had to cancel our reservation," he said, closing the door behind him. "The police kept me there for a while, then Jeanette's parents got home and I had to explain to them why the cops were round there removing a hundred and thirty-year-old body of some little girl who was killed by her father."

"And this girl Jeanette, she knew exactly where the body was? Are you sure she's not just after attention?"

"I'm very sure. The ground hadn't been touched before she got there. I'm just wondering what sort of a case I've got here –"

"Simon, this is meant to be _us_ time. Let's not talk about work," Jillian said.

"Yeah, okay, alright then. Here, I got you these." Simon produced a bunch of flowers for her.

Back in Jeanette's bedroom, she was trying to figure out what was going on.

"You're still worried you're crazy, aren't you?" Juliet asked.

"A little bit," Jeanette said. "I don't know what to think. Juliet, please, you told me you could help. I want help. Please, Juliet, I have no idea what's going on."

"Its okay, it's okay. I can sort out help for you, Jeanette, but you just try and remain alright. And hey, look on the plus side: you're going to see that handsome doctor of yours again tomorrow."

Simon was in his office, reading the newspaper article. He had brought himself more than one copy, but not because he was being self-centred. One copy was to go with his notes; one copy was to go in his scrapbook, and he was planning to give the other copy to Jeanette when she got in.

His date with Jillian hadn't gone well. He'd ended up wishing he'd cancelled the whole thing altogether. She'd all but broken up with him last night.

There was a knock at the door and Dave let Jeanette in. She sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

"Morning," Simon greeted. "Did you see the paper this morning?"

Jeanette shook her head.

Simon passed her the newspaper. "Front page. I'll probably get in trouble for believing you, but I always say 'sane until proven crazy'."

"Like 'innocent until proven guilty'."

"Exactly. I bet they'll be taking me down for this. We'll both be in trouble, and then God alone knows what'll happen."

"Shame."

"Just as well, I guess," Simon sighed. "I get too caught up in my work. I don't live properly. My work is pretty much my life."

"What a waste," Jeanette muttered. "You should live."

"Yeah, but what is living, really? Apart from the bit between birth and death? What's life, Jeanette?"

Jeanette smiled, then shook her head. "It's whatever you want it to be. No one person can really define life. But they can choose what happens in theirs, to a certain extent."

"Can they really? Is it even possible?"

"Sometimes."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It only takes the right events, the right decisions."

Simon shook his head. "You lost me."

Jeanette laughed. "That's good, because I don't know what I'm talking about and so I don't really want to continue this conversation. Do you still think I'm crazy?"

"That sounded perfectly sane to me."

Jeanette smiled slightly at Simon.


	7. Demon

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Six: Demon**

"I have an idea," Simon told Jeanette as she was about to leave. "Have you ever tried an exercise – I can't remember what it's called – where you just write? And you don't think about it, but after a while, you find yourselves writing things you never realised you were thinking. I'd like you to give it a shot tonight, and bring it in tomorrow, please."

"Like homework," Jeanette said.

"Sort of," Simon replied. "See you tomorrow."

Jeanette called her parents and her mother, Brittany, said she'd be there in about ten, maybe twenty minutes to pick her up. Jeanette leaned against a wall outside the building, watching cars rush by way too fast.

What the hell was she going to write about when she got home? No, never mind – Simon had said not to think about it. Think about something else. Juliet. Juliet was going to help her. That'd be good. Juliet struck her as a very nice girl, very nice and very kind and very helpful. She'd see Juliet later and then everything'd be –

"Look who it is."

Oh, crap. Jeanette turned her face away.

"Don't ignore me, bitch."

He grabbed her arm tightly. Jeanette tried to pull her arm away but it didn't do any good.

Simon was with another patient when he heard the screaming. A loud, repetitive, shrill, shrieking scream, like somebody being attacked.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, hurrying out to the front of the building, where a large crowd was gathering.

Simon pushed his way to the front of the crowd so he could see the problem. It was his patient, Jeanette. A tall blond guy who was hunched forward ever so slightly was tugging on her arm for some reason with a malicious grin-smirk on his face. She was trying to pull away, hammering on his chest, trying to get free. Nobody seemed to want to help her. Simon ran forward and tried to intervene, tried to stop the guy from hurting her, but was punched in the gut.

Jeanette gave another loud shriek and pushed her attacker hard, sending him flying backwards across the road and into a building on the other side. The crowd dispersed quickly, terrified.

Jeanette looked about ready to faint. Simon caught her and tried to hold her up. She was shaking badly and beginning to cry.

"Don't worry," Simon said reassuringly. "Don't worry, it'll be okay. Who was he?"

"N – Nath – Nathan…" Jeanette sobbed.

Simon helped her stand up.

"Are you okay?" Simon asked. Jeanette was crying so hard she couldn't speak. She just shook her head.

"How did you do that?"

Jeanette shook her head again.

"_Did_ you do that?"

Jeanette shook her head.

"Then who did?"

Jeanette opened her mouth to speak and managed to choke out a single word.

"Demon."


	8. Theory

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Charlene as Professor Sara Jones (Professor Sara Jones is Nurse Helen Jones' sister)**

**Harry (you know, Uncle Harry from the television series) as Johnny Goodwin (Joseph Goodwin's cousin)**

**Chapter Seven: Theory**

Simon made sure the police were informed of the attack and Jeanette was safely being driven back home by her upset mother, before returning to his work. Between appointments, when he had a little spare time, Simon made telephone calls to a few old friends of his.

That evening, Simon sat in his apartment, waiting for his doorbell to ring. When it finally did, there was a fairly large group of people at the door. Everybody was there. He let them in and quickly locked the door behind them.

Sitting before him were several people.

The first was Alvin, the patient Jeanette's father. He was a little shorter than Simon, wearing a red cap and t-shirt, with a pair of jeans and a light, casual jacket.

The second was Theodore, wearing a pair of jeans and a green sweater.

The third was Simon assistant, Dave, who was wearing a pair of jeans, a dark sweater and a brown jacket.

Eleanor was a chubby blonde about Theodore's height, Jeanette's brown-eyed nurse. She was wearing a light green dress with a dark green tie and jacket.

Charlene was Eleanor's sister, tall and tanned, with ice-blue eyes and long blonde hair. She was a professor at a paranormal studies institute.

Jillian was also there, looking politely confused. She was sitting next to Alvin, who was a friend of hers.

And finally there was the short, hoarse-voiced Harry. He constantly dressed in tatty clothes, not wanting to look like the 'snobs' as he dubbed them, who overdid everything and tried to be intelligent. He was another professor; one of Charlene's colleagues.

"Why are we here?" Harry asked.

"It's about one of my patients," Simon said. "Jeanette Miller is a very unusual case, and I at first didn't know what to think. Then Theodore here – who is her professor at school – told me about a recent boyfriend of hers, who he suspected had been beating up on her. My initial thoughts turned to a mental misbalance caused by this treatment. The following day, however, Miss Miller told me she had seen a ghost in her room, who she claimed had given her instructions to dig up the body."

"A ghost?" Charlene asked. "A real ghost? Seriously? Oh, this is brilliant, this is going to be wonderful, I can tell!" she and Harry leaned forwards, hanging on to every word.

"Erm – well, so the ghost apparently wanted her body to be found. I would not have believed this, but I asked Dave to run a background check on a girl called Juliet Greene – who, it conspired, had disappeared without a trace at the patient's house."

Alvin gasped audibly.

"I therefore agreed to help the patient dig up the body, which we found in the exact spot she had pointed out. Today, Miller was attacked by this boyfriend, which I witnessed and – sadly – failed to stop. However, the girl somehow stopped the attack herself by pushing her assailant away –"

"So?" asked Eleanor.

"– and into a brick wall across the street." Simon continued. "She, however, claimed it was a demon that did this. I have called you here in the hopes you can help me figure out what and why."

"If she had a near-death experience, that could cause her to think she's dead," Jillian offered.

"In the hospital, her breathing and heart rates were for slower than the normal rate…" Eleanor offered.

"So then, let's say she's attacked," Charlene offered. "She's almost dead. She's in the morgue. She wakes up and starts seeing ghosts. She's not breathing at a normal rate, and her heart rate's too slow to support a living person. To me, that only says one thing."

"Yes?" Dave said politely.

"She's in Limbo. She's somewhere between alive and dead. This makes her think she's completely dead."

There was an uproar.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"You can't be serious!"

"Is this some kind f joke?"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"Hang on a minute!" Jillian exclaimed, standing up. "Just wait a second. Let's say for a moment that this theory is true. Well, that could mean a simple explanation. And let's say that demons and ghosts and all that exist. Well, it's all so obvious, isn't it? She thinks she's dead – thinks nothing can harm her, so she lets her guard down. Demon's or anything – especially something bad – can get in easier when you have your guard down. And it's strength pushed that boy into the brick wall."

"How do you figure that?" Alvin asked; Jillian flushed.

"I was really into this sort of thing when I was a kid."

"So we have our theory," Simon said. "I'd like to put together a team for this case. And I want you people to be in it."

There was a mutual agreement.


	9. Organising the Team

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Again, not a scary chapter.**

**Chapter Eight: Organising the Team**

"This case, for this team, is going to need our full, undivided attention," Simon told his team. "This means that if you want to take this on, you're going to need to drop everything. Apart from Alvin and Theodore – they'll need to observe Jeanette Miller's behaviour and report any changed, or anything about her we can use, which means they don't need to drop anything – simply meet at appropriate times. And we'll have to be careful, because if your daughter is right –" Simon looked directly at Alvin. "– then she could be in serious danger, and possibly the rest of the team could be too if we don't take extreme precautions. If you don't want to do this, feel free to leave now."

Nobody moved.

"That's good. Dave, you're appointed secretary of the team. You organise, take notes, whatever the hell you need to do. In fact, draw all this up in a table or something."

Dave whipped out his laptop.

"Alvin, Theodore, like I said: observe and report her girl's behaviour. See if it changes or stays the same. Report absolutely everything."

They both nodded.

"Appearance, too," Charlene added. "Sometimes, people being haunted or stalked by demons change in appearance. This can be bruises, scratches and cuts, or they could become very thin, or very pale… you get the idea."

"Right you are," Simon said. "That's why I need you and Harry. You know more about the paranormal than anybody else I know. You two can tell us anything about it. You know what you're doing. You two are _vital_, absolutely vital, to the team."

Eleanor and Jillian cleared their throats.

"Right," Simon said. "Eleanor, am I right when I hear that you are Jeanette Miller's doctor?"

"Yes," Eleanor said. "I normally work as a nurse, but lately I've been training as a doctor."

"Good. That's good. We need you to see how her heart and breathing rate does. We need a full medical record on her from now on, alright?"

Eleanor nodded.

"Brilliant. Jill, last but not least. You've never met Jeanette, correct?"

"Right."

"Excellent. Because that's the most important. You've never met her, so you can make free judgement on her, okay?"

"Sure."

"Wonderful! Dave, have you got all this?"

"Yep."

"Okay, everyone. Go home, get some rest. Alvin and Theodore are the only two I will expect _not_ to see in my office at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. Just remember to dump everything. Tonight, if you can. And Dave, will you please transfer patients but the one in question to other people when you're done with the table."


	10. She's a Demon

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Nine: She's a Demon**

Darkness. Endless darkness.

And then a small pinpoint of light. Growing closer and closer and…

_NO! I'M NOT GOING! I WON'T!_

Jeanette fought the pulling of the light and her eyes burst open. She screamed.

"Shit!" Alvin muttered, woken up by his daughter's desperate screaming. He pelted into her room and yanked back the curtains of her four-poster bed. Then he screamed, too.

The Bible – where was that damn Bible she'd been given at school for some reason? It must be somewhere. He tore the books off the bookshelf and finally found it. He walked back towards the – what the hell was it?

He held the Bible in front of himself and his daughter. The – the _thing_, whatever it was, slowly backed off. Then Brittany came into the room.

"Get out!" Alvin mouthed to her, but the _thing_ had already seen his wife.

Desperate, trying to defend all three of them, Alvin threw the Bible at it. That seemed to make it angry.

Doors banging. Windows rattled in their frames. Objects flying about the room.

Alvin picked up a bag and tipped some of his daughter's clothes into it. She grabbed her handbag, her glasses and something else. Alvin and Brittany did the same in their room, and fled the house. They climbed into the car, terrified, and Alvin drove away fast.

"Where are we going?" Brittany asked.

"Somewhere safe," Alvin said. "Get some rest."

Brittany settled down to sleep, and so did Jeanette, but sleep wouldn't come. Every time she closed her eyes, she kept seeing that face.

A burnt, rotted fave, bleeding and broken and beaten. And covered in dirt. Even those plaited pigtails were ruined.

It was Juliet. Everything snapped into place.

The car pulled up outside a large apartment building.


	11. Refuge

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Ten: Refuge**

"Where are we?" Jeanette and Brittany asked.

"Somewhere safe?" Brittany asked hopefully.

"Somewhere _very_ safe," Alvin said.

It was daylight now. It was safe. It would be okay until it got dark – then they'd have to be extremely careful.

They got out the car with their bags and headed straight into the building, taking the elevator up to nearly the top floor.

Alvin led them straight to an apartment and rang the doorbell. They must look quite strange, Jeanette thought, standing there in the hallway in their pyjamas at this early hour of the morning. The door opened.

It was a tall, handsome man with steel-grey eyes and tanned skin, in blue sweatpants but no t-shirt. He had a smooth, hairless chest with nice muscles. He looked practically gorgeous.

Then he pulled the glasses out of his pocket. _Oh, Jesus_.

"Morning, Simon," Alvin said. "How are you?"

"It's six in the goddamn morning, Alvin. What do you want?"

"We were attacked by… something. We need somewhere to stay."

Simon's eyes widened as he looked at Alvin, Brittany… and then Jeanette.

Simon and Jeanette suddenly both felt embarrassed at the other seeing them in their pyjamas.

"Uh… s-sure," Simon stuttered. "C'mon in. I'll… erm… make you breakfast or something…"

The apartment was huge. It opened immediately onto a large living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. There was a door on the left against the wall by the front door that Simon said lead to a bathroom and two bedrooms. A kitchenette was on the right of the living room and another door leading to the master bedroom, and a third door for the washing room and airing closet.

"You guys set up in the master bedroom," Simon said. "I never use it anyway."

Jeanette dumped her bag in the other room that hadn't been used. The apartment was on the twenty-first floor.

It would be safe here.


	12. The Kiss

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Eleven: The Kiss**

"So you were attacked by a demon?" Simon asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," Alvin answered.

Simon shook his head. "It just doesn't make any sense to me. I really don't get it. I mean, I've dealt with mad people who're convinced there's something after them, and I've been able to prove against it. And now this. Everything's been thrown completely out of concept. Excuse me; I have to make a few phone calls."

Alvin, Brittany and Jeanette sat huddled together on the couch, shaking.

"It was… real…" Brittany kept repeating. Alvin held her close.

Jeanette quickly went to the room she was sleeping in to get dressed into something more suitable. She reached into her bag and grabbed a too-big baby blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans, pulled them on and curled up on the bed. The door opened.

"A few friends of mine are going to come over in a bit and… are you okay?"

Simon closed the door and sat down next to Jeanette, who was crying again.

"It's my fault we're here," she sobbed quietly. "I know it is."

"No it's not," Simon told her quietly. "Don't say it is, because it isn't. It was bound to happen anyway, and it's not a bad thing. You'll be safe here, you know."

"Hopefully," Jeanette said.

"It'll be fine," Simon whispered, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Jeanette stared at Simon, not sure what was going on, or going to happen. He looked her directly in the eye.

Simon leaned in a little more and his lips touched Jeanette's.

She couldn't help her reaction. Perhaps because she'd never kissed a boy before. Jeanette wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. They both had their eyes closed now.

Simon put his hands on Jeanette's waist and kissed her harder, practically forcing her backwards on the bed…


	13. The Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Twelve: The Calm Before the Storm**

Simon persuaded Jeanette to join the others in the living room.

He felt a little awkward. He knew he had a girlfriend, but Jillian hadn't been acting like a girlfriend lately. And besides, it wasn't like he and Jeanette had gone to third base or anything. It had only been a few minutes of almost silently making out… nothing really…

The doorbell rang. Simon let his team in and Harry jumped straight to the point.

"We've decided, Simon. If it's really this bad, the demon has to be got rid of. Right now. We need to stop her before everything gets too out of hand. If this thing is throwing stuff at you, I think we have to rid that house of it. We've got everything we need."

"Okay," Simon agreed slowly. "Yeah. Sure."

"There's one other thing," Charlene added. "The thing has already made a connection with Jeanette. She has to do it."

Simon almost panicked. "What'll happen?"

"If she doesn't, it could kill her. The demon wanted a body, so it got Nathan to bring her to it. That's what we think happened. That's why it went after its old body… to get rid of her. But we think that if she can get rid of it, there's about a sixty percent chance she'll be alright."

"Only sixty?" Alvin, Simon and Brittany asked.

"I'm afraid so," Jillian said. "But nobody's ever done this before. So we can't tell."

Simon breathed in deeply and turned to Jeanette, who nodded quietly.

The house seemed so still; so quiet. But it wouldn't be soon enough.

Jeanette walked up to the door; Simon followed her. "You won't be alone, you know," he muttered. "We'll be right behind you."

"Okay," Jeanette whispered back. She kissed him on the cheek and pushed on the front door, which creaked slowly open.

Everything was quiet. The team ran into the house, spreading out in the neatly-furnished living room.

Footsteps upstairs. A little girl on the stairs, normal but bleeding a bit from one ear. She walked slowly up to Jeanette.

"You know what has to happen," she said, and disappeared into thin air. Nothing happened.

"What was that?" Dave asked. "Is it gone?"

"No," Jeanette said, almost inaudibly. "This is just the calm before the storm."

Her bedroom door started slamming rhythmically. She knew where to go.

**A/N: Oh, no! The story's nearly over! Ooh, I can't wait to see what'll happen…**


	14. The Battle

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Battle**

Dave felt rather embarrassed. It was stupid to think that would have been it. But hell, he had no experience with these things.

Jeanette led the way to her bedroom, Simon right behind her, and then the others. When the Bible and holy water got to the steps, things started getting nasty.

A wind blasted down the hallway from Jeanette's room, blowing books and bits of paper and things around in the hallway.

"You little sneak!" the deep, dark, demonic voice drawled.

Jeanette continued on but the force of the wind picked up and she had to grab the railings of the stairs, clutching at a Bible, a Rosary and a small bottle of holy water. She couldn't carry them all and carry on; she shoved them in her backpack and slung it onto her back.

The wind picked up again and nearly everyone retreated to the living room and Jeanette was gripping the rail so tight she might get splinters but she still slid her hands up it, closer to the top of the stairs, and the wind was lifting her off her feet and if she let go now she'd probably get killed by the impact when she hit the wall and –

"Keep going!" she heard Simon yell at the top of his voice. "I'm right behind you!"

Jeanette continued but now she was at the top of the stairs and there was nowhere to go, nothing to hold onto, apart from doorframes and books and the large chest of drawers… she grabbed a doorframe nearest to her and tried to drag herself along the hall, and the wind picked up again and…

Something got her into the room. But only her, and the door slammed.

Things were blowing about the room like a hurricane; her hair billowed about her face. The bookshelf was lying on the floor, the desk was upended, the four-poster's curtains were torn. Her computer was lying, cracked, halfway across the room, the television that usually sat on the wall had somehow managed to get smashed and her posters were torn and ragged.

"You just wouldn't go along with it all, would you?" the demonic voice asked from nowhere.

"What?"

"How did you do it? How did you survive?"

"I don't –"

The demonic vision from last night shot out of nowhere and its hand clutched at Jeanette's throat.

"Don't lie!" the demon shrieked.

"I'm not –"

The demon's grip tightened. Jeanette's vision was going blurry, her oxygen supply cut off.

"How do you do it? You beat me every time!"

"I –"

Jeanette collapsed on the floor, feeling the strength draining out of her. The demon let go.

"I know how to make you answer," it said, smirking evilly. The door slammed open and Jeanette faintly saw Simon dragged in by some invisible force. The demon gripped _his_ throat instead.

"No will you tell me?" it screamed.

Jeanette weakly grabbed her bag, gasping for breath. She went for the holy water first. "Stay away from Simon, you _bitch!_" she screamed, hitting the thing with the water.

Where it touched the demon, the water fizzed and burned and created smoke. The demon screamed, letting go of Simon, who fell limply to the floor. Jeanette ran to him and hit the demon full in the face with the holy water. It burned the demon, which screamed in agony and disappeared.

There was a final huge, desperate force of wind and Simon and Jeanette where thrown from the room and down the stairs. Jeanette hit the wall at full force and fell to the floor.

Simon's vision came back when he landed on the floor. The house was calm, and despite all the people there, it felt empty. He turned to Jeanette, to congratulate her, but she was lying on the floor, unconscious. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.

Eleanor checked Jeanette's pulse and breathing and turned solemnly to the others, whose faces fell. All Simon could think was, _no_.

"She's back to normal," Eleanor said happily.

Simon breathed again, and Jeanette coughed, opening her eyes. He helped her get up.

"Is it over?" she asked.

"Yes," Simon whispered.

"Where's Jillian?" Alvin suddenly asked. "She was sitting right next to me a minute ago."

"Never mind," Brittany said. "But we can't sleep here tonight."

**A/N: Don't go away; that's not the end yet! I still have a few more things to write about. Please keep reviewing!**


	15. Comfort

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Chapter Fourteen: Comfort**

Nobody could contact Jillian. They figured she's run out when no-one was looking and she'd get in touch with one of them shortly. Jeanette and her parents returned to Simon's apartment for the while.

It was late at night and Jeanette still couldn't sleep. She lay there, whimpering, terrified.

The door opened slowly.

"Are you alright?" Simon asked quietly.

"No."

"You're in shock," Simon told her. "That's all. If you want, I can stay in here for tonight."

Jeanette nodded silently and Simon sat at the foot of her bed. He noticed that Jeanette was shaking and held her quietly.

"It's okay," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry about it. You're safe now. You did it."

"I know," she said, hugging him back. "I'm sorry about Jillian."

"That's alright; it wasn't your fault. And besides, I'm in love with somebody else."

"Who?" Jeanette asked, clueless.

Simon kissed her again, on the lips this time.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered, and she fell asleep.


	16. Epilogue: Three Years Later

**A/N: I don't own AATC.**

**Vinny as Grandma Minette (named for my Great Aunt Minette, who died a few years ago)**

**Alvin Jr as Sammy Jason**

**Epilogue: Three Years Later**

Simon and Jeanette were walking through the graveyard, hand-in-hand. Simon's mother had died of cancer last year. In tow was a little boy who looked incredibly like his grandfather.

It was three years and still nobody had heard from Jillian, which was upsetting Simon, because he'd been blaming himself.

"Daddy, daddy, look what I can do!" the little boy said, pulling on Simon's sleeve. "Daddy, daddy, look daddy!"

When Simon knelt down by his mother's grave and Jeanette put her hands bracingly on his shoulders, Alvin Jr turned to Jeanette instead. "Mummy! Look what I can do, mummy!"

He stuck his tongue out at her and rolled it. Jeanette smiled and ruffled his hair.

"That's very good," she said. "Hey, you know that cap Grandpa Alvin's got that you really liked?"

Jeanette pulled out her father's spare red baseball cap and put it into her son's head.

"Wow!" Alvin Jr exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly. "Hey – look! It's Grandma Vinny!"

He was hopping up and down and pointing at a person sitting on the gravestone of Simon's mother. Simon looked up. "What did you say?"

"Grandma Vinny! Grandma Vinny! Look at the cap mummy got me!"

"It's very nice, Alvie," the grandmotherly ghost told her happy-go-lucky grandson.

"He can see her?" Simon asked. "Is she really there?"

"Yes," Jeanette whispered. "She's there."

"Mum?" Simon asked. "How are you doing?"

"She's okay," Jeanette said, watching her mother-in-law play with her son.

"Are you going to Theo and Ellie's wedding?" Jeanette asked Vinny.

"What the heck," Vinny shrugged. "I may as well."

"Great," Jeanette said.

They sat talking to Vinny while Alvin Jr explored the graveyard. He got to the kid's graves and looked closely at one. There was a picture on a little girl carved into the stone. She looked like a kiddie version of that pretty lady in some of daddy's photographs, the one who went missing. He called Grandma Vinny over.

"What does the name say?" Alvin Jr asked, pointing to the little girl's first name.

"Jillian," Grandma Vinny said. "Her name was Jillian."


End file.
